


Rue

by mansklig



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Comforting Jesus (Walking Dead), Denial, Desus - Freeform, Love, M/M, One-Shot, Regret, Sad Jesus (Walking Dead), darus - Freeform, jeryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 14:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15463302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansklig/pseuds/mansklig
Summary: Daryl was used to the bitter taste of sadness and misery, he was used to the flavor of heartache and dejection, he was used to it all, even before the world went to hell. The world has always been cruel to him. He never thought that anything could beat the things he went through, he never believed that anything can ever feel worse- but oh how he thought wrong, because this was so much worse, the foul tang of regret fueling inside of him, burning him with agony, igniting his soul with anguish. And that's when he realizes that it hurts more than all the sadness he suffered his whole damn life.





	Rue

He zips his pants as he pushes himself off the bed, ignoring Paul's rambling about the latest book he was reading. The younger man was trying to make conversation, one Daryl wasn't interested in.

"You know you don't have to leave now." Paul said, suddenly aware that Daryl wasn't listening. He was laying on the bed, completely naked, too lazy to get up and shower just yet. He really was hoping that Daryl would spend a couple of extra minutes laying next to him, but apparently that was too much to ask for from the Dixon. Daryl briefly looked at him, taking in the messy dark blonde hair that was framing his attractive face.

"Got shit t'do." Daryl said, as he put his shirt on, and started buttoning it.

"Yeah, of course." Paul answered, fighting the disappointment off his voice. He sighed when he heard the trailer's door slamming shut, without much of a goodbye.

It's not like he didn't get it, he did. It was just sex, blowing off steam. It couldn't be more than that, not with the hunter at least. Paul tried ignoring the butterflies that erupted in him when they kissed, he tried brushing off the feelings the hunter's gentle touches caused, he really did, but it was so _hard_. He rubbed his face tiredly, before getting off the bed and heading to the shower, might as well make use of the time.

After showering and putting on some clean clothes, he walks out of the trailer and heads to Barrington House. The community has been crowded ever since Alexandria was attacked, the people who weren't killed divided between the Hilltop and the Kingdom.

Paul didn't mind, he liked most of them, and the whole Negan-situation was kind of his fault, so he believed he owed them.

Though he remembers Daryl downright disagreeing with him about how it was his fault. It was nice to hear it, Paul didn't know if Daryl mumbled the thoughts of 'they would've eventually found us' because he actually believed that, or because he wanted to make Paul feel better- as a thank you for the mind blowing sex maybe. It didn't matter however, the mere fact of it leaving Daryl's lips managed to make Paul feel better.

He enters the room that used to be Gregory's office, and finds that everyone was already there, apparently waiting for him.

"You're late." Rick said, nonchalant.

"Sorry, got held up a bit." Paul replied, smirking in Daryl's direction. The hunter averted his gaze, and Paul chuckled to himself because he was getting good at fighting the blush.

"Alright, we were talking about putting the plan to action." Rick started, features hardening as his eyes went serious and solemn.

"I think we should use the surprise factor, they're not expecting us, not now at least, and that won't last long." Rick continued,

"The Sanctuary, we hit that first, any other outposts won't be hard to find if we get hostages talking."

"I want you to go today- take Rosita and Morgan, we need to know the number of guards that are usually set. Check the whole perimeter, try to gather as much information as you can, all the holes we can use to get in and out." Rick says, motioning to Daryl, who nods along. Paul frowns,

"No offense to Rosita, but don't you think that it'd be better if i went with them, I know how these people's brains work, and i've been in and out of the Sanctuary without getting caught."

"Excuse me?" Rosita interrupted, raising an eyebrow, clearly taken offense.

"It's just that i'm a better fighter than you, i mean physically, and if you're caught, the things they could do to you are.. a lot worse." Paul replies, before adding, again,

"Hell, I don't even think Daryl should go, you saw what they did to him last time, if they catch him aga-" Paul started, clearly not happy about Daryl going to that place and risking getting caught. They won't go easy on him, not this time.

"Stop it Rovia, we'll do fine." Daryl says,

"I actually agree with Paul, maybe Daryl shouldn't go." Maggie says.

"Nah, Daryl's a good fighter, so are Morgan and Rosita, and someone has to do it. They already know he's here, yet they didn't come for him, Negan's priorities aren't Daryl right now, plus, he has spent time there, if they find a way in, it better be Daryl." Rick says, and his tone settles it, because he leaves no room for argument.

"I need you to help me protect this place Jesus, we don't know when the asshole will strike again. If he does when they're out there, we'll need as many fighters as we can get." Rick said. This time, he's interrupted by Daryl,

"No, if he strikes ya don' fight Rick, ya let 'im give his dumb speech and leave, we ain't fightin', not on our grounds. S'too risky." Its Rick nodding along this time, and Paul's heart flutters at Daryl's protective tone. _Our grounds._

"Okay, you're right. Jesus, last time you were there, tell us what you remember." Paul starts narrating whatever he remembers of the last time he sneaked into the Sanctuary, only a couple of days ago. It was when this plan of striking first started forming, and Paul took the initiative because he was fast and quiet. Chances of him getting caught inside the Sanctuary were the least. It was a crazy thing to do, and he did almost get caught, but as Rick has said, someone has to do it.

He then draws them a quick sketch, making circles around a couple of buildings that surrounded the Sanctuary, ones they could hide in if things go too unfortunate. Maybe even take a couple of shots from if they handled snipers well.

As soon as they're done with their meeting, the three heading to the Sanctuary start packing up, getting ready for the beginning of a war they only hoped they could finish.

Paul was really nervous, which was quite unusual. He knew they had to do this, but the thought of Daryl getting caught, or even worse, getting killed, really fucking hurt.

He knocked on the archer's door before going inside, not bothering to wait for a 'come in'. He stayed in the brick building with the rest of his family, since there weren't any empty trailers.

Paul remembers offering him to join him in the trailer, since he knew the older man didn't like places crammed with people, and Barrington house was quite filled with them. Daryl politely refused, well, as politely as _Daryl_ could. He did murmur something about them not being boyfriends, and Paul laughed it off because he didn't want any more awkwardness lingering between them.

"Hey.." Paul said, as he entered the room. Daryl was checking the ammo of his handgun, before pushing it to his holster.

He nods in Paul's direction, acknowledging the scout's presence. Paul closes the door behind him, and moves to the bed before sitting on it.

When Paul's silence goes on for too long, Daryl raises his eyes from the bag he was packing some food and ammo inside,

"S'wrong?"

"Don't want you to go." Paul replies, honestly. Daryl rolls his eyes, before zipping the bag shut and pulling the crossbow off the bed. He tugs the strap on and pulls the bag onto his shoulder.

"Will be back before y'know it." Daryl said. He tried to sound convincing, but even he didn't sound so sure.

"Hey, just.. promise me you'll be careful." Paul said, holding the tip of the hunter's rugged fingers to stop him from walking to the door.

Daryl hums in agreement, before trying to walk away. Paul pulls him again, a little harder this time. He then stands off the bed, and pushes himself closer to Daryl, so they're standing chest to chest. Paul was a little shorter, so Daryl had to lower his gaze to meet the big pretty eyes.

"Promise me you'll come back." Paul whispered, before pushing his lips to Daryl's in a light peck, he just wanted reassurance, he wanted to know that Daryl was going to try his best to come back to him.

He pushes the thought of ' _he's not coming back to you_ ' away, and focuses on Daryl's eyes instead.

"Stop bein' a sap, told ya i'mma come back." Daryl replies, before pecking Paul's lips again. He fights the urge of asking for reassurance from Paul himself, because he didn't need to act all worried now, the scout was staying safe within the community.

"Would you hate me if I confessed some heavy hearted shit right now?" Paul asked, reaching for another kiss. Some part of him was screaming, that this was a bad idea, that he shouldn't do this, not now. And then there was the other part of him- the part that has loved the hunter for too long without telling, the part that felt like it would erupt if it went another second without mumbling those words, the part that kept whispering how this could be his last chance of confessing his love for the grumpy man.

"Yes." Daryl replied, his eyes warning.

"I love you." Paul mumbled, before kissing him one last time. He pulled away, anxious eyes scanning worn out features, waiting for some sort of reaction, anything.

Daryl felt the panic he has been fighting for some time rising. Swallowing it down, he muttered,

"Told ya not to do this." He stormed out the door, pushing his panic aside and trying to concentrate on the mission at hand. But it's all Paul spinning inside his head now, and all he can think about is how this wasn't the time for Paul to act like this, whatever the fuck was between them, it wasn't this, it wasn't _love_.

He throws the bag he loaded into the back seat, barely noticing he reached the car that was taking them to the Sanctuary. His eyes scan the small crowd around him, eyes instantly falling upon Paul's figure, who was walking out of Barrington house towards them.

Daryl breaks the eye contact before it begins, and listens to some words Rick is telling them about being careful.

And then they take off.

And Daryl has no idea of what the night holds for him.

.

.

.

 

They were huddled at one of the buildings Paul drew for them on their not very accurate map. It was getting dark, the sun has just set, and they decided to spend the night because leaving now was risky, plus, they had a very informative view off the windows of the building they were inside.

After confirming their safety through the walkie talkie, they ate and settled for the night.

Daryl was taking the first watch, sitting beside the window, eyes open and calculating. Finding the building wasn't any trouble, there was a single savior smoking outside the perimeter, but Daryl's quiet crossbow took care of him in no time.

He had the savior's own communication device in-front of him, waiting for any voices to come through, anything that would make their mission run more smoothly.

It felt like hours later, when he heard Negan's loud voice blaring through the walkie talkie.

"Boys! We leaving for the Hilltop, wanna see what they're up too, three of you at the van in two minutes, chop chop!"

"Any heavy duties boss?" Someone asks, and then Daryl feels the blood in his veins turn into ice,

"Nah, the usual, Jesus guy pissed me off, sneaking in and out of my grounds like that, gotta teach him a lesson, let's go boys!" Daryl stood off the chair quickly, almost knocking it down. His hands moved to his own walkie-talkie, and he started calling Rick's name as he shaked Rosita and Morgan awake.

"Wake up, they're heading to the Hilltop." He told them, as he grabbed his crossbow and continued trying to reach for Rick.

"Rick- goddamit Rick! Where the fuck are you!"

"Daryl- shh! You're being loud!" Rosita said, eyes wandering to the window, they can see the black van moving to the road.

"We need to leave, we need to leave right now-" Daryl said, already running to the door. He was stopped by Morgan, who slammed his stick to the door, and said,

"They can take care of themselves Daryl. We have a job to do."

"Move that shit outta my face before I break it! He's gonna kill someone! Heard 'im over the damn talkie!" Daryl barked, pushing the stick forcefully.

"Hijo de puta- Fuck- Daryl! Let's at least wait them out! Wait for them to move away so we don't get caught!" Rosita said, trying to catch up to the running man.

"The car's already far away, s'gonna take us time to reach for it. Morgan, ya stay 'ere and watch the place, ya don't make no stupid moves, don't need anyone finding you." Daryl said, voice lowering to a whisper.

Morgan nods his head, before shutting the door behind them.

They run, or at least Daryl does, as Rosita tries to catch up to him. As soon as his feet are a safe distance away from the Sanctuary, his steps are no longer quite. He was stepping on leaves and sticks without caring about noise, everything inside his head was screaming Paul, get to Paul before its too late.

"Daryl- slow the fuck down, we don't need a herd coming after us." Rosita said, a little out of breath.

"We don' have time-" He replies, barely acknowledging the burning he feels in his lungs, he doesn't have time for that now.

After what seems like forever, they find the car they had hidden between the bushes, and take it out to the road as fast as their shaky limbs can.

Daryl presses hard on the pedal, and he notices Rosita putting the seatbelt on. His knuckles are turning white from pressing so hard on the steering wheel, and he only shakes them off to pull the walkie-talkie when Rick's voice fills his ears.

"How's everything going?" He asks, clearly relaxed.

"Where the fuck have ya been?!" Daryl snarls, before adding quickly, not giving Rick room for panicking,

"They're coming to the Hilltop Rick, tell Paul to hide, Negan wants him!" Daryl says, voice shaky. He couldn't lose him, not like this, not now.

"What- are you okay?" Rick's relaxed tone is no longer there, and Daryl can hear the shuffling,

"We're fucking fine!- Just tell him to hide- He's gonna kill someon-" Daryl's voice is cut off when he hears someone screaming, and then Rick is gone.

"Goddamit!" Daryl throws the device with rage, as he presses the pedal harder. He's not going fast enough, they're already there.

"Daryl slow down, we won't be of any help if we get killed now." Rosita said. It doesn't matter what she said though, because he wasn't going to slow down except when he sees the community's wooden walls.

"He's gonna be fine. Jesus is strong." She adds again, her hand gently resting on his shoulder. He relaxes a little, but his feet doesn't move an inch off the pedal until the wooden walls come to view.

He can see the black van standing outside, and his heart is beating so hard he feels it pushing against his throat.

As soon as they're close enough to the gates, Daryl jumps out of the car, his gun in his hand, locked and loaded.

The sight ahead of him shakes him to the core, and all of a sudden the horrendous memories of Glenn and Abraham dying are blurring his vision. They were sitting there, his family, kneeling because Negan had the upper hand, _again_.

He can hear him talking bullshit about something, about setting the rules and playing nice, about how he was trying to save them all, about how he was a man of word, about how he doesn't like people who don't follow his rules, how he specially loathes people who sneak into his Sanctuary without his consent, and then his eyes land upon Jesus.

"Stop!" Daryl screams, hands raised in false surrender. Rosita is right beside him, obviously catching onto whatever he was planning to act like, and going along with it.

"Well, well, well! Hello there Daryl, I was just asking your friends about where you were." Negan said, smile plastering on his face.

"You don't have t'do this, w-we get it, you don't like having your rules broken. You don't have to kill anyone." Daryl said, his voice pleading.

Negan's eyes widen in surprise, and then his gaze moves between him and Jesus, just for a second.

"H-o-l-y shit! Never thought i'd see you begging for mercy, gotta admit, its working." Negan says, his hand moving to Paul's hair, brushing it off his face. Daryl grits his teeth,

"Tell me Daryl, who are you so afraid of losing? Must be someone special since you're about to drop on your knees and beg."

"I'm sure it ain't none of these folks that were here the last time a similar scenario occurred, cause you were throwing punches around like a big ol' hero back then! Not giving a fuck about who died! Remember that? I wasn't planning on killing the pregnant woman's husband." Negan said, and then he added,

"I'm not that cruel Daryl, _you are_."

"Is it Jesus, you don't want me hurting this little sneaky guy?" Negan asked, pulling Paul's hair to make him stand on his feet. Paul flinched at the burning pain of his scalp, but he ignored it as he stood on his feet.

Daryl moved unintentionally, stepping closer as he tried to reach the man that was too far away.

" _No no no_!" Negan drags the words out slowly.

"You stand right where you are and i might make his death easier than bashing his head with Lucille." Negan yells, his hand gripping Paul's hair harder, pulling him towards himself.

"Even though I must admit, your face is pretty tempting, and she's been craving some blood for a while." Negan says, words directed to Paul, yet loud enough for everyone to hear. 

"Ya don't have to fuckin' do this! Please- just-" Daryl chokes as he tries to find the words that could save the scout's life, and he finds them when he sees the softening of Paul's features.

"I-I get it- You want blood, take it from me, i'm the one who ran away- You can do whatev-" Daryl's words are cut off with Paul shaking his head, and then Negan's loud laughter that exceeds all their cries.

"We playing Romeo and Juliet now?" Negan asks, before pulling the safety off his gun.

"I'm sorry Daryl, but you don't get to play around the rules. I'm a man of word." Negan says, and then everything seems to go in slow motion. He can see Paul smiling weakly, tears of fear falling off his eyes, repeating words that no longer make sense to Daryl as if they were the last prayer that would save him,

_"It's okay Daryl- I'm okay- I love you."_

And then gunshots filled the air. Daryl didn't feel himself pulling the gun, he didn't feel the savior that aimed the shot at his shoulder, he didn't feel his own people fighting when everything went to hell- all he could hear were his own screams as he emptied the bullets into Negan.

And then Daryl Dixon broke down, the once grumpy strong fearless man- a stuttering mess, leaning beside Paul, sobbing and trying to collect the lifeless man in his arms, moving the blood stained hair off his pretty blue eyes, whispering comforting words and whiping blood away from the pale skin.

"No- no no no! Paul ya can't do this t'me, come- come on! Come on Paul- I-I told ya I'd be back and you were supposed to wait for me- Y-you just had to fucking wait!" His voice keeps getting louder, and with every second passing he feels his heart getting heavier, he can't do this, this is not real, _Paul isn't dead_.

But his blue eyes are no longer filled with the glimmer of life, and his lips are no longer smiling, and the heat that radiates off his body when Daryl's near him is gone. He was gone.

That doesn't stop Daryl's hand from searching for a pulse, screaming for someone to get help- screaming for a doctor that won't change the fact that Paul was dead. His hands move to Paul's neck, as he screams and cries and curses because _fuck_ \- how was he going to stop this sinking feeling inside of him, how was he going to keep living knowing that Paul is dead.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and he shoves it away, screaming as he hugged the man closer in a shaky embrace,

"Ya can't do this- Y-ya can't leave me hangin' like that, not after the shit ya said Paul- p-please don't do this to me!"

"Didn't tell ya I loved ya yet- S-should've made ya promise- should've took ya with me." He sobs and sobs until no more tears are left to cry, and no one comes near him because the sight is too heartbreaking- yet pulling him away from the scout that everyone loved seemed even harsher. 

He was used to the bitter taste of sadness and misery, he was used to the flavor of heartache and dejection, he was used to it all, even before the world went to hell. The world has always been cruel to him. The world was never fair. Not to Daryl.

He never thought that anything could beat the things he went through, he never believed that anything can ever feel worse- not with how he pushed everyone away- _not with how he pushed Paul away_ \- but _oh_ how he thought wrong, because this was _so much worse_ , the foul tang of regret fueling inside of him, the regret of not telling him he loved just as much- if not more- was _burning him with agony, igniting his soul with anguish_.

And that's when he realizes that it hurts more than all the sadness in this whole wide world, that it hurts more than the sorrows he suffered his whole damn life.

_That it hurts so much more than he can take._

And this time, there wasn't any Paul Rovia to make things better.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it, put all my shitty negativity into this fic lol


End file.
